Invisible Girl (An Erotic Romance), Pt. 8

Chapter Fourteen

“I’m home…anybody here?”

The voice from downstairs startled her awake.  She didn’t remember drifting off, but she must have.  And Peter must have as well, because his eyes were wide with dismay when hers snapped open in the twilit room. 

“Oh god, it’s my Dad,” she whispered.  

She jumped out of bed and ran to the bedroom door. She opened it, leaned her head out, and called,  “Hi Dad!  I’ll be right down!”

She closed the door and hurried back to where Peter still lay on the bed, still wide-eyed.

She leaned close and said quietly, “You stay here for a while.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe, okay?”  

Without waiting for a reply she began rooting around frantically for clothing.  She pulled some underwear out of the drawer and was about to step into them when Peter said, “Wait.”

He grabbed some tissues from her bedside table and quickly knelt in front of her.  

She looked down and saw that there was semen, and a little blood, between her legs.  He cleaned her up as best he could, and said, “Do you have any, you know, tampons?  It would probably be a good idea to use one for now.”

“They’re in the bathroom,” she replied.  “Never mind, just give me some more tissues.”

She pulled up her underwear and stuffed in the handful of tissues he handed her.  She quickly pulled on a bra and a t-shirt, followed by her old gym shorts.  She took another tissue and wiped off her smeared lipstick, then picked up another t-shirt and dried her sweaty hair as best she could, and combed it with her fingers. 

Then she gave Peter a quick kiss, and hurried out the door.  

Her legs felt stiff and there was some soreness between her legs as she made her way down the stairs. She wondered if she smelled like sex.  She felt wonderful and anxious at the same time. 

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table looking through the mail.  Jane thought he looked tired, and much older than he actually was.  

As she walked in she said, “Sorry, Dad.  I lay down for a while and the next thing I knew was when you came in the door.”  

Well, that’s the truth, she thought.

Her father looked up and said, “No big deal.  Where’s your mother?”

Jane had to think for a second.  “Oh, that’s right!  She said she’d probably be working late ‘cause she took time off this morning.  I got my braces off, Dad, look!”  She made a comic grin at him.

He seemed a little puzzled by her playfulness, and for a moment he looked at her as he had last night, as if she had somehow become a stranger, but eventually he smiled back at her, and said, “Be-yootiful.  You’re a knockout, hon.”

She sketched an imaginary curtsey and said, “Thank you, kind sir.”  She paused.  “Now, what are we going to do about dinner?  Mom said there was some stuff in the freezer but I guess it’s too late to defrost anything.” 

 She crossed over to the fridge and opened it.  After perusing the contents for a moment she looked back at her father and asked,  “What would you say to an omelet?”

“Sounds good.  You get the eggs going and I’ll get the innards ready.”

She was glad they had plenty of eggs—she was famished.  She pulled out six and went to crack them into a bowl while her father poked around in the fridge for the rest.  

He came up with some leftover ham, some cheese, half a red pepper and an onion, and brought them over to the counter.  He began to slice and chop while Jane got out the big cast-iron skillet and put it on the stove.  

While it was heating she beat the eggs together with a little milk, then added a little butter to the skillet before pouring in the egg mixture.  The smell of cooking eggs made her mouth water.  When they were nearly done her father added his contributions, and she neatly folded the omelet over them.  

She quickly set the table while the omelet was finishing, and when it was done she cut it in half with her spatula and scooped it out onto their plates.

She experienced a moment of dread as they sat down at the table.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had been alone in the same room with her father for more than a few seconds.  Possibly he felt the same awkwardness, as they ate in silence for some time.  Or maybe he had just drifted back into his usual preoccupied state, she couldn’t tell.

She allowed her thoughts to drift as well, back up the stairs to her room.  She wondered what Peter was doing.  Probably trying on my underwear, she thought to herself with a smile.  That thought brought her back to the night he had appeared beneath her window, wearing a tuxedo—and her panties.  She remembered waltzing in the mist, his voice humming the tune next to her ear…

“You look happy.”

She jerked herself back to the present to find her father looking at her.  His expression was a combination of curiosity and…what?  Admiration?  

She gathered her wits and said, after a moment,  “Yeah…I had a pretty good day today.  You know, finally getting my braces off, and I got a lot of nice compliments about my hair. And Mom and I had lunch at Pirandello’s!”

Her father nodded as she spoke but said nothing.  She was afraid he was going to drift off again, so she said the first thing that came to mind.  “How was your day, Dad?”

He seemed a little taken aback, but replied,  “It was okay.  Nothing special.  It’s not very exciting work…” He seemed to look inward for a moment, then continued,  “…and I guess that’s a good thing.”  

Jane looked at him questioningly and he went on.  Well, the old job paid a lot better, you know that, but there was a lot of pressure all the time.  Too much pressure for me, I guess.  That’s why…well, you know.”  

He looked down and didn’t see Jane’s nod.  When he looked up again he changed the subject somewhat by saying, “Did your Mom tell you we’re going on retreat this weekend?”

Jane nodded again.  She hesitated, then asked,  “Do you…like going on retreat, Daddy?”

He stared at her for a moment.  They had never talked much and certainly never about anything this personal.  He looked away, thoughtfully, for a while, then brought his attention back to her, and said, “Well, it’s never been exactly what I’d call fun, honey.  Though it’s a lot better than it was when we started going.”  

He stopped for a moment, considering, then went on.  “Your Mom was amazing—she saved my life, really.  A lot of women would have given up, especially after I lost my job and everything was going to hell in a handbasket.”  He gave her a rueful smile.  “I don’t know why she thought I was worth saving.  I sure didn’t.  But she got me to that first meeting and made damn sure I kept going, no matter what.

“That first retreat just about killed me anyway.  The regular meetings were hard enough.  You know, having to say out loud that you have a…a drinking problem and all.  But spending a whole weekend tearing yourself inside out…” His gaze was inward again, and his face looked ravaged.  “…trying to pull up all the bad stuff, expose it.”  

He came back to himself and looked at Jane.  “I hated having to show all my weak spots to your mother.  I mean, she already knew I had a problem, obviously.  But having her know all the things…” He trailed off and looked down again.  

Then he looked up and tried to smile.  “Anyway, it’s gotten a lot easier.  Your Mom and I are pretty good together, these days.  We actually spend a lot of the retreat time helping other couples, and I like that.  Makes me feel like I’m doing something useful in this world.”

Then he looked sharply at Jane, as if seeing her for the first time. 

 He said, “I just realized something.  You know that one of the steps at A.A. is apologizing to anyone you might have hurt because of your drinking?” 

 Jane nodded, uncertainly.  

He continued, “Well, anyway, it is.  And I’ve spent whole weekends apologizing to your mother.  But I just realized that I’ve never once apologized to you.”  He paused.  “And I guess I need to apologize for that first.”  

He suddenly grew angry.  “My god, what’s the matter with me?  My own daughter.  And I’m so caught up in my own troubles that I don’t even…”

“Daddy, it’s all right…”

“No, it’s not all right, it’s inexcusable. “  

He buried his face in his hands for a moment, and rubbed it.  Then he forced himself to sit up straight and look at her.  

“Jane,” he said, “I’ve treated you like a stranger in your own house.  I guess we both have, your mother and I.  I’ve been trying to…to get better, and your mother’s been trying to help me, but that’s no excuse for shutting you out.  I promise you that’s going to change from now on.

Jane felt tears spring to her eyes, and she started to speak, but her father said, “Let me finish.  I…don’t remember a lot of what I did when I was drinking, but I know I said and did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have, and wouldn’t have if I’d been sober.”  

Jane inadvertently reached up to touch the place where her bangs had been.  Her father looked away and, after a moment, continued, “When I’ve…apologized to other people, especially your mother, I can’t…there are never the right words to say how sorry I am…and now…with you…I can’t even imagine how much I must have hurt you, and I have no excuse for it.”

Jane forced herself to sit quietly, even though the tears were running down her face. 

 Her father turned back to her and said,  “I can’t say that I’ll make it up to you, because I don’t think there’s any way I can.  But I hope…maybe you can believe that I really do love you. That I never stopped, even when I….”  His voice choked and faded.  

Jane jumped from her seat and ran around the table to embrace him, unable to speak.  

He whispered, “You’re my precious girl,” and held her tightly.  

It was an awkward position, standing bent over with her head on his shoulder, their arms around each other’s shoulders.  She wouldn’t change it for the world.

They remained that way even when they heard her mother’s car pull up and stop, and then her mother coming in through the front door, calling, “Hello…something smells good!” 

Her mother fell silent when she reached the kitchen and saw the tableau before her.  After a moment, though, she simply walked over and quietly added herself to the embrace.

They all sat at the kitchen table and talked and cried and laughed and made plans for some time after that.  They talked about taking a trip together after school was out.  And this reminded Jane that, one, she still had homework to do, especially with final exams coming up, and two, that Peter was still trapped in her room.  So she reluctantly excused herself and made her way upstairs…

Only to find the room empty.  

There was a note on her pillow:  “It sure seems like a lot of people love you around here.”  

He must have heard them in the kitchen, she thought, smiling.  

The note went on, “I know I do.